


A Drug

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Addams AU [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Addams Cousin Poe Dameron, Addams Family References, Alternate Universe - Addams Family Fusion, Domestic Boyfriends, Don't try this at home kids, Family Crypts, Implied Bottom Finn (Star Wars), Inspired by Music, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Pet Names, Poe Dameron is a simp for Finn man, Poisoning, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Tea, Tea Time with the Addamses, Undertaker Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: The Addams family invites Finn over for tea. He and Morticia conspire to inject a little extra...fun into the evening.
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: FinnPoe Addams AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977823
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	A Drug

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Anything And More!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217813) by [sapphistication](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphistication/pseuds/sapphistication). 



> the inspo song and some intersting tidbits are linked in the text for you :D

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Poe glances at Gomez. “I can scarcely believe my eyes.”

“Nor I, Cousin. Who’d have thought we’d have ever ended up with such luck.”

“They’re lovely enough to die for.”

“To kill for, too.”

Poe smirks. “Either way, what bliss, no?”

Gomez smiles back and they sigh in tandem. Together they lean at the conservatory doors, just watching. Swooning, more like. Morticia leads Finn around her plants, chatting amicably, pointing out her favorites. Her African Strangler creeps after them, almost nipping at their heels until Finn fixes it with a firm look. Morticia laughs as it retreats, praising him and that wicked eye. Poe’s heart feels as though it would burst, filled to the brim with that nocuous lift to Finn’s lip.

“Thank you for inviting him to tea,” Poe murmurs. “It’s wonderful to see him here in the family home.”

Gomez puffs his cigar and waves a hand. “Think nothing of it. Your guest is our guest. Our family! Wonderful to get to know him outside the business.”

Poe sighs again, watching Finn trail after Morticia. He cuts a delightfully dark line through the greens and browns, like a shadow. In Poe’s eyes, he’s the most beautiful, deadly thing in the room. He brushes past the nightshade, stoops to sniff a pale [Devil’s Trumpet](https://thethirdwave.co/psychedelics/datura/). A lovely juxtaposition. Poe stomach clenches as he watches, entertaining briefly how Finn’s scent would mix with the flower. A delicate honeysuckle, tinged with an embalmer’s chemical burn. Poe almost shivers at the thought. Finn bends to ask Morticia something, he can’t tell what. But given her delighted expression, it must be awful. A familiar pull snares in his gut; Finn’s hooks, bone deep.

“I thought I’d show him the crypts.”

Gomez laughs uproariously. “You sly serpent! Circling around him like a carrion crow, aren’t you?” Poe grins back and Gomez shakes his shoulders good-naturedly. “Come for a round of darts, it’ll take your mind off him. For a moment’s respite.”

Poe just shakes his head and follows. Gomez knows as well as he does that Finn would never truly be put from his mind. Finn’s taken up permanent residence there, creeping and strangling out all other thought slowly but surely. Much like Morticia’s beloved plant.

But why not? The last time they played, Poe won the wager and pinned Gomez up to his neck in knives. Perhaps he can win again, repay the damage done to his suit the last time they sparred. As he follows out, they miss the devious look Finn and Morticia throw at their backs.

* * *

Tea is…

Well, tea is a teasing affair.

It’s just twilight, stars starting to twinkle in the East. Obscured slightly by the evening miasma rising from the swamps. Finn and Morticia disappear into the kitchen with Lurch. Heads together. If Poe didn’t know any better, he’s say they were scheming something. When they return without Lurch, porcelain pot steaming, he doesn’t think twice. He’s just caught up in the way Finn walks. Crossing the floor gracefully, silver tray balanced perfect in his palm. It’s all Poe can do not to put his chin in his hands and sigh, desperate to be a tray.

Morticia serves, dropping the customary sugar cube and sprinkle of cyanide in each chipped cup. Finn passes him one first, fingers brushing the side of Poe’s hand. Then holds his own with two hands, inhaling the steam and closing his black eyes as if the vapor were a tonic for all his woe. Is it possible to be jealous of tea too? Poe squints at the cup; Finn brings it to his lips and takes a delicate sip.

“We tried something different,” Morticia says, “I hope you like it.”

Poe and Gomez follow suit, drink themselves. Underneath the bitter almond bite of cyanide is something…else. Something equally bitter but a bit herbaceous. The sugar mellows it, making it pop pleasantly on his tongue.

“It’s dreadful,” he smiles.

Finn stares at him over the rim of his cup, a hint of a sly smile playing there.

Morticia sighs, porcelain clinking in its saucer. She looks indulgently between Finn and Poe. “It’s been so wonderful to have you here. You’ve reanimated this old house as only new love can.”

Poe grins at the implication. There may have been a night or two where Finn’s wailing echoed from attic to dungeon. In fact, he’s sure of it. The echoes come back to him at night.

“[Love is a drug](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnbHHccymo4), is it not?” she muses, sipping at her tea, making the same tempting eyes at Gomez as Finn levels at Poe. “Enervating at times.”

“Or analeptic, you might say,” Finn hums, creeping all the way down Poe’s spine. “Stimulating.” 

“Blooming visions that, left unchecked, would push a mind into madness.”

Gomez hisses, eyes fixed on Morticia, pulling her hand to his lips fervently. Poe glances from his empty cup to Finn, who’s still watching him archly. Little more than a curve of his brow but it sets a fever in Poe’s blood. Morticia’s whispering French, Gomez is ready to eat her alive, and that, Poe decides, is their cue to leave. Without a word he stands, offering Finn his arm. A strange sort of headiness swims behind his eyes, but he chalks it up to the cyanide.

In the library is the switch. Not _Greed_ , not to the vault. Rather _Eternity_ , leading to the vast warren of tunnels and crypts beneath the house. There’s one place in particular he wants to show him. No doubt Finn will appreciate it. He doesn’t ask where they’re going. Merely nearly smiles when Poe leads him down into the dark, candelabra in hand.

His steps echo off the stone walls. Finn, as always, follows silent. Trusting. The shadows flickering in the firelight seem a little more…animated than he remembers them being. Several of them wave. The tunnels feel warmer too, though that might just be due to present company.

“These tunnels existed before the house was even built. Part of a cave that stretches for miles around,” Poe says, loosening his tie to relieve some of the heat. “Cousin Fungus lived in these tunnels for years.”

“He had good taste,” Finn says from behind.

Poe can almost feel that deadly smirk. He smiles. “He did. When he finally passed, it was a short trip to the crypt. Over three hundred years of Addams are buried on the grounds, including the catacombs here. I thought you would like to see them.”

“How thoughtful of you…”

Something scuttles out of the corner of his eye but when he turns, it’s just the familiar dark. Finn, following close, slips a hand on his lower back. Even more strange, what Finn’s touch would normally elicit feels…sharp. Sparking under his skin, skittering to his extremities. If he had to liken it to anything, it feels as though he’s clamped to the dungeon’s electric chair. Live voltage hopping in his veins. He swears he could even smell it, a faint whiff of ozone. But when he looks back, Finn’s empty-handed. There’s no battery, no chair, no wires. Just Finn, watching in an executioner’s self-satisfied way.

“All right?”

Finn’s voice reverberates around him. In front, behind. At the corner of his mouth, the back of his neck all at once. Poe spins on his heel, helplessly following the sound back to—Finn, waiting, stock still. How did he get back so fast? Wasn’t he just behind? Finn’s tiny smile grows a little wider, swallowing him like a fissure.

“Come on.” Finn takes his hand in an icy grip. “We’re almost there.”

It doesn’t sound like he’s talking about the crypts. Poe stares at him for a moment, almost in a daze. His heart leaps, trips. “ _Mi amado…_ ”

He kisses each of the undertaker’s fingers. Then the top of his hand. His palm. The bare sliver of wrist exposed. Finn’s black eyes only look darker in the candlelight and Poe walks backward, pulling him along. Though it feels more like he’s weightless and something is in turn pulling him. He just can’t take his eyes off him. Finn’s starting to shake. Or rather, the edges of him are starting to shake and Poe’s afraid if he looks away Finn’ll shake apart entirely. He only stops when something cold and hard bumps the back of his legs. That draws his attention and he forgets about watching Finn.

A crypt!

“Oh! We’re here!”

Finn smirks. His mouth moves, and Poe hears from behind, “Well spotted.”

He whips around and—oh, there’s Finn again. Sitting on the tomb. He smiles dopily. “When did you change?”

Finn behind him is wearing…well, for the undertaker it’s practically nothing. His suit jacket’s missing. Black button shirt open past his chest, rolled to his elbows. And—

“Your eyes, _querido_ , what happened to your eyes?” Instead of their familiar dark color, Finn’s eyes are completely white. Shining bright in the dark, like his teeth. Oh— “Your teeth!”

Finn’s smiling at him, wider than Poe’s ever seen. All the way back to his molars. Perfect rows of gleaming white teeth. Sharp and clean as new headstones. Poe sucks in a sharp breath, heart racing, mouth dry. That smile is…terrifying.

He’s absolutely smitten.

Familiar arms circle his waist from behind. The undertaker’s voice is in his ear again. “Who are you talking to, Beloved?”

Poe turns, and there’s Finn again. Gently wrestling the candelabra from his grip and setting it off in an alcove. Well, of course! Why wouldn’t there be two Finns? Poe’s nerves crackle at the thought. Oh, what sweet torture would await him… Finn cups his cheek. Memories of rose petals, thorns in his tongue zip through him and the weightlessness returns tenfold.

“Do you feel that?” he asks breathlessly, sure he’s going to float away.

Finn takes hold of his shoulders, pulls him round. In one smooth movement, he’s sitting on the tomb where the other Finn had been. For an instant, Poe’s disappointed to find him gone. Then this Finn drags him close. Curls his fingers like hooks around the back of Poe’s neck, fitting him between Finn’s knees. Without a second thought, Poe winds his arms over Finn’s thighs, around his back. Mimicking the snaking patterns emanating from somewhere over Finn’s shoulders. The undertaker leans in.

“Have you caught a buzz, darling?” Finn asks, lips brushing his ear. “You’re positively shaking.”

Poe shivers. Finn’s certainly the one shaking here, his edges all blurred. But if his beloved says _he’s_ the one that’s shaking, well it must be true.

“I must have,” Poe murmurs. He noses the line of Finn’s throat. The faint smell of Devil’s Trumpet and embalming fluid bite in his sinuses. His hands wander back, working at the undertaker’s skull-shaped buttons. “Have you put a spell on me?”

Finn winds his fingers through Poe’s hair, tightens them like a vise. Cranes his head back. “Hardly. Would you call love a spell?”

“I thought you called it a drug, _amante.”_

Finn barely brushes their lips together. “Not I. But perhaps it could be. Flooding the body with chemicals all its own. Causing breath to heave, hearts to race.”

Finn’s words crawl over him, insectlike. Making him gasp. Prickling at his skin, stoking the fire in his skin. Finn releases his hair, sliding each hand around Poe’s neck. He pauses, considering there. Thumbs pressed into those thick vessels pounding in his throat. Then he continues. Hooking his ankles around the back of Poe’s knees, working to undo his tie. The fabric hangs loose on his chest. Finn unbuttons him, exposing him to the air but he feels no relief from the heat. Instead, when the undertaker’s icy fingers skirt the line of his clavicle, Poe would swear the temperature only increases.

“Such a lovely color,” Finn murmurs, tracing the flush Poe feels creeping in his skin. Speaking almost to himself. “I’ll have to use that again.”

_Use what?_ is what he wants to ask. But as soon as the thought slips in, it’s gone. Lost in a haze. Poe’s heart races; it’s a wonder Finn can’t see it. “You leave me deranged, _querido_. Your touch is enough to drive me to the edge of sanity.”

“I think we can do better than just a touch, don’t you?” Finn grins, a touch of mania at the edge like a poisoned blade. “I want you desolate.” His fingers linger over Poe’s pounding heart. “Unhinged. Howling like the demon you are.” Thighs tight around Poe’s waist. “I had so hoped you’d have me. Right here.” Nails dig in, teeth bite Poe’s ear. “Right now.”

Electricity spikes in every cell, leaves Poe gasping. One Finn to take, several more appearing in the dark to watch. All smiling the same smile, set and solid as rigor mortis.

Well, who is he to deny such a pretty request?

**Author's Note:**

> as a disclaimer, you are not addams, don't poison your partners kids


End file.
